


All of me against all of them

by Doublematch



Series: To love and protect [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, DM!God, M/M, Marvel 616 References, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Violence, and all those things, slave!Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doublematch/pseuds/Doublematch
Summary: In the aftermath of the Apoconot, Heavens and Hell still want their vengeance.Too bad for them that Crowley is really protective of his angel.WARNING: There will be hurt, and not only on the angels and demons who crossed Crowley. If you are not prepared to see Aziraphale suffer, do not read. And please check the Archive warnings for triggers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let's start a hurt fest. This first chapter is still light, but from the next things will excalate. Be warned, its not a happy fiction. Maybe will have a happy ending, but its still far far away.
> 
> Please comment, stock up on kleenex, and read Master Crowley in the mean time. Really, it all started reading it. 
> 
> As disclaimer, i own nothing but my imagination and a signed copy of Anansi Boys, and write this for my pleasure and your torment.

Life after the Apoconot was marvellous for Crowley and Aziraphale. Finally, with all that nonsense about beign on different sides, they managed to express their feelings.  
Both were surprised by the outcome.  
Their life proceeded as always was, but now some houseplants could be found on the bookshop and libraries graced the walls of the apartment.   
Today, you could find them on Aziraphale's sofa, the angel reading while carding through the hairs of the demon currently asleep on his legs.  
Crowley woke unexpectedly.  
“My dear, is there some problem?”  
“No, angel, but I believe that I forgot to tend to my plants in the past days. I will pop there, and then I could take you some sushi from your favourite place.”  
“As you like, dearest. I will wait for you.”  
With a kiss, Crowley departed. Aziraphale suffocated a smile. He too had noticed, and had already miracled the plants to perfection while his love was napping. He couldn't stand to feel those poor things trembling.  
A thunder rumbled outside.   
Strange, but maybe a storm was brewing.  
He left his book open on the coffee table, and go to the kitchen to brew a cocoa for himself and a strawberry tea for Crowley. How could he drink that thing almost cold was a big mistery.  
Strong hands grabbed him from behind, his mouth was taped shout and something clamped to his wrists. Then, all became dark.

In the apartment, Crowley was glaring at his houseplants. He could still sense the miracle Aziraphale performed, but he will keep his plant respect nonetheless. While was growling at them, something felt amiss.  
He transported to the shop, food forgotten, to find Aziraphale reading and sipping, from the aroma, strawberry tea.  
The demon stopped.  
“Angel, is all good?”  
The one in front of him closed the book making a dog ear to mark the point.  
“Why should something be wrong, Anthony?”  
That did it. The fake angel was against the wall, Crowley's hands around his throat.  
“Where is my angel?”, he growled.  
The decoy gasped for air.  
“But here I am! What's gotten into you?”  
“Don't go around and bullshit me. Aziraphale loath strawberry tea, would never call me Anthony and would renounce his faith before doing a dog ear to a book. Now, last chanche. Where. Is. My. Angel. “   
The last words were marked by loud thuds, as Crowley slammed the impostor against the wall.  
“Where you will never found him.”  
Hellfire engulfed the lowly angelic being who posed as the principality.  
Crowley growled alone.  
Heavens wanted a war, they will have a war.  
Nobody could touch his angel, and live to tell the tale.


	2. Into the darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : Rape  
> Rape is not ok, never.  
> This is a work of fiction, and no real angel suffered damage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIrst time I try and go explicit, i hope it works

When Aziraphale woke up, he found himself chained on the centre of a big room. He tried to miracle himself away, but the manacles flared with sigils and burned his flesh.  
“You really were sure you could go against orders and not paying the price?”  
Gabriel. But there was some one else in the dark.  
“You two have caused quite the fuck up. And now is time for retribution.”  
Hastur came into view. Hastur? With Gabriel? The angel felt scared. He reminded what Crowley said: “It will be all of them against all of us.”.  
My dear. I hope you are safe.  
Defiantly, he raised his head.  
“I'm not impressed by the like of you.”  
Hastur laughed.  
“Gabriel, you were right. Such a stupid mouth. Now, will you stay?”  
“No, I have elsewhere to be. But I'll be back to see how all this go. Remember: no discorporation and no annihilation.”  
Suddenly, he was left alone with the Duke of Hell.  
“Now, little angel, we are going to have fun. And you will behave, or I'll crush that poor excuse for a demon personally. Are we understood?”  
Crowley. Protect Crowley.  
He slowly nodded.  
“Well done.”  
Deliberately slow, Hastur unfasten his pants.  
Aziraphale's eyes widened on the realization of what the demon meant with having fun.  
Pleas no, I never... I wanted to, but not this way.  
He prayed God, but She didn't grant his wish.  
Has this to be my punishment for loving Crowley so much I lust him too?  
Hastur freed his demonhood, then grabbed the angel from the hairs, snapping his head back again.  
“Like what you see, pretty one?”  
Aziraphale averted his gaze, only to be stricken with violence across the face.  
“You will look at me”  
Hastur then proceeded to try and force his penis past the angel lips. When he didn't promply comply, he found on a snap something forcing his mouth open.  
“A simple device from your precious humans imagination. Thay can be cunning. We will try a lot of their playthings.”  
Without further ado, the Duke of Hell violated the angel mouth, suffocating him without more warnings.  
Aziraphale moaned his discomfort and his eyes started to water while he was pressed against the demon's groin.  
Crowley. Must keep thinking about Crowley.  
Hastur started to move, every thrust hurting more than the precedent. The principality couldn't stop a chocking sound while his torturer laughed.  
“A good use for a stupid mouth. I bet Crowley like it a lot.”  
The tears on Aziraphale's eyes started to fall.  
“Now if you want air you will have to suck, pretty one.”  
And so he did, having lost the control of his own body. The rhythm increased and soon Hastur empted himself on his throat. The fluid burned like hellfire while Aziraphale was coerced to ingest it, mouth still full with the throbbing member.  
He passed out, but Hastur's words reached him.  
“Now I have to go, but we will play again very soon. Think about all the fun we will have together.”  
He was left in the dark.

– – – – – 

Crowley was searching the shop for clues. Entering the Kitchen, a familiar smell caught his attention. So, not only Heavens wanted the war. He would need something more than simple hellfire.  
He slouched on Aziraphale's favourite chair. He then remembered something he heard of aeons ago. Something stupid. Something reckless. Something efficient.  
He silently ask forgiveness while rummaging through his love desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is more painful for me than I thought. Writing unlocked unpleasants memories I had forgotten. Please, dont hate me too much <3


	3. Naming your destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking some liberties with Crowley's powers. But he's my plaything now. ( maniacal laugh ensue )
> 
> Feel free to tell me if it's going completly pear-shaped. I need it.

Crowley could sense that what he was searching for was near. Aziraphale never talked about it, but he knew it was there. Finally on a hidden compartment on the top right drawer he found it: a little ornate vial with a recent note on top.  
“Darling, never ever touch this. It's holy water, the last drops I took out of the thermos. Couldn't bare to part form it, since it saved you. Be a dear and close the drawer.”  
Tears crossed Crowley's cheeks. His angel, trying to protect him even now that he failed on keeping him safe. With reverence he took the note and, with care, pocketed both it and the vial. He then take the last of hellfire still burning on the spot of his outburst. He didn't knew if he could manifested again. The demon retracted to his lair.

After putting the fire on a small brazier, he emptied his desk and transferred the holy water, the last gift from his love, into an ink pot with the utmost care. That water saved him once, and was freely given. All the better for his plan.  
He miracled a second table, two chisels and a complicated sword harness, then proceeded to search his collection for some souvenirs from Spain: a pair damasked swords and twins daggers. 

His plan was not safe at all. It would drain is energies. But it would be the only way, since using miracles was becoming more and more dangerous and he would not Hell to track him.  
He remembered the power of naming, one of the reasons he changed his name. If you name something you have the power over it. You can control it, bend it to your will. And Crowley's will has never been stronger.

The demon placed a dagger and a sword on each table, and moved the hellfire to the manifested one. He decided to start with a dagger and holy water; if his idea wont work, he would have known immediately. Crowley fastened the sheathe, dipped the chisel into holy water, and proceeded to engrave the blade with holy sigils. The tool almost combusted him at first, but he started whispering while working.  
“You are Retribution. You will gave to the demons so stupid to stand on my path what they deserve.”  
The chisel cooled on his hand, and the marks flared to life. Tentatively, he touched the handle: it barely stung. The care he used to enchant Retribution was wearing him, so he sheathed her on his back. He won't stop, so he turned his attention to the other dagger.  
Hellfire made the second chisel red hot and demonic sigils were engraved.  
“And you, you are Vengeance. Angels who cross us will feel your bite, all of them but the one I burn for.”  
Vengeance hummed with contempt, lighter on Crowley's hand that his sister would ever be.  
So much energy needed. But the swords had to be finished.  
With difficulty and shaking hands, he managed to finish the work without spilling the deadly water.  
“You are Love, and will help me take back what's mine to keep.”  
He could hold her without shaking.  
Just one more.  
“You are Passion, and we will teach those bastards what does it mean to burn”  
The blade engulfed in flames for a second, remembering him of the one Aziraphale gave away.

Crowley was exhausted. Much as when he stopped the Time on Apoconot, he had used something bigger then him. Love and retribution were warm against his body, but the holiness on them won't hurt him. Aziraphale's gift, smuggled from Heavens and kept as a reliquiae from his angel, did protect him.

The demon sat, and replenished his energies while pondering the next move. What to do next? Hells and Heavens took his Aziraphale. Maybe it was still the Apoconot business going on. If not, he could use a witch. He will go to Tadesfield.

\- - -

On the floor of the room, Aziraphale was trembling with disgust. He had woke up screaming, but somehow grateful to have the control on his mouth once more. He was also able to move about, but he didn't have the strengths to do it.  
He felt dirty, and all he could fathom to ask for would be a warm bath. But he was alone in a dimly lit room. A plaything.  
Screaming, he proceeded to rip off his dresses to try and fell clean.  
From a distant place, Gabriel saw that and smiled.


	4. Bleeding tears

The angel was still crying, surrounded by fragments of what once were his favourites clothes.  
He tried to pray, but all he could feel was emptiness.  
Aziraphale knew he had to endure. Crowley will save him. Crowley will make all better.  
“I bet Crowley likes it a lot.”  
Don't think about it.  
Think about anything else. Food. Sushi. A nice sushi roll to “put in your mouth”.  
No, he will not let Hastur get into his mind like that.  
He started to cry again, holding his knees near. 

A hand pulled his head back.  
“Good work pretty one. You undressed for me. Too bad you kept something still on.”  
The last pieces of cloth still on him were miracled away and Aziraphale tried to cover his body, only to find himself enchained again.  
This time Hastur had him arms up dangling from the ceiling, and he could spy some more chains and ropes near. Laughing, the Duke of Hell manifested a mirror in front of him.  
“Look at you.”  
Aziraphale could not raise his head. He heard the whip just before feeling the hit, pain spiking from his back.  
“I said look” ,slash, “at” ,slash,”you”,slash.  
He wasn't used to withstand physical pain. He started to scream, while lashes were regularly applied. When his voice went hoarse, Hastur stopped and forced his gaze up.  
“Look at you now. You are so appetizing.”  
Aziraphale could feel his erection pressing against him.  
Without further talking, the angel's legs were parted, lifted and chained.  
“Keep your eyes open all the time. And feel free to scream to tell me how much you like it.”  
Two fingers were pressed against his opening, and he arched his back trying to keep them away.  
“You don't want them, pretty one? Then this surely means you want me directly.”  
Hastur firmly encircled his waist with an arm, while the other hand lined his cock. Then he thrusted, preventing the angel any escape.  
Pain. So much pain. Aziraphale started screaming again and, since he couldn't buckle up, pushed down, opening himself more. Hastur moved the now free and to grasp his chin and moaned to his ear.  
“That's a good angel. Scream for me. And keep looking.”  
He placed a firm bite on his collarbone, deep enough to draw blood. Aziraphale had to keep looking while he proceeded licking it and moaning.  
“So sweet”  
All this keeping thrusting in him, opening his body with violence.  
The angel lost track of time, and retreated on his memories. Feeding the ducks. Strolling in the park.  
When Hastur found his pleasure, Aziraphale was left chained in front of the mirror, blood and semen dripping from him and mixing on the floor with tears.

\- - -

Crowley was staring down at his plants.  
“It's all your fault. I should leave and left you here to rot.”  
Then, he remembered the last Aziraphale's miracle, and manifested a top of the line indoor irrigation system.  
“Try and be less than perfect, and I'll burn you lot without a second thought.”  
The plants will keep shaking with fear for weeks.


	5. The nice and accurate meddling.

Crowley was thorn. He would have liked to use his Bentley, but wasn't fond of her being putting at risk. Using a miracle was out of question, if he wanted to move unnoticed. Public transportation was ruled out too. He had only one option left: he manifested his wings and flew to Tadesfield.

Mrs. Young opened the door to find a suspicious men glaring at her. Where those... swords? She tried to close the door, but the stranger blocked it.  
“I would like to see Adam.”  
Mrs. Young's eyes went wide with fear for her son, but before she could say anything Dog came from upstairs.  
“Mom, it's all ok. He's just a substitute teacher from school. I told you he will pass by to help me with math.”  
She looked again, and she remembered. Finally her kid seemed interested on studying, she had been so happy. How could she forget?   
“Oh, I'm sorry to detain you. Come into the living room, I'll take you some tea.” , and she disappeared into the kitchen.  
“Nice trick kid.”  
Adam sported the most innocent of the mischievous smiles.  
“It's easy, adults never listen first time and they know it.”  
He looked pensive.  
“Now you will have to stop at least for an hour, and I will have to be really good at math forever. At least until next month.”

They sat on the sofa, and Adam took out some pens and paped to hint they were working.  
“It's Aziraphale coming later?”  
Crowley couldn't take it anymore. Upon entering the Tadesfield area, he started feeling the sense of love the angel blabbed about just before Apoconot, and the memory burned him with loneliness.  
He started to cry.  
“They took him. Both of them. I want him back, and I hoped you could be of some help.”  
Adam hated to see someone distressed. He tried to concentrate.  
“Can't do. Sorry. I could even try and tell you he will walk through the door in a couple minutes, but it wont work.”  
Adam's mother took tea and biscuits, and with a “Have fun with your math” left.  
“Listen, I know he's not on Tadesfield. It's my home, I would know. And I can tell if someone not human is approaching. Go see Anathema, and maybe I'll drop by tomorrow morning, since it's Sunday.”  
Crowley found himself standing on front of the cottage. Damn, Adam was still so powerful.  
Anathema was already staring at him from the door.  
“You are late”

She propped a ladder against the porch and removed the horseshoe.  
“Now enter, I'll put it back immediately.”  
Dazed, the demon obeyed.  
“How would you know?”  
Anathema sneered at him.  
“I'm a witch and my ancestor won't let me leave the path of “professional descendant”.”  
She pointed to the floor, where some flour spelled “Now run out ye disrespectful one. A fallen must pass, remember to remove the iron”.  
The witch shrugged.  
“I dropped it half an hour ago. Agnes really is staring to get on my nerves.”  
Newton joined them from the back garden and looked at Crowley pensively.  
“Hi. I suspect I should know you but cannot place from when. So, I suppose I've must have seen you at the airbase. “  
Crowley was speechless. The humans could remember him.  
“Go prepare the spare bedroom, Newton. I belive we will need it tonight. “  
“I will leave soon”, replied Crowley, unwilling to stop even to wait for Adam.  
Anathema pointed with a sigh to the dirt Newton took inside.  
“Take some sleep, here is safe. Tonight thay would not go past iron.”  
“After the airbase, I received a new prophecies book and burnt it down. I suppose she took it personally and it's trying to prove me wrong.”  
She exterminated Crowley with attention, and noted his weapons to have auras of their own.  
“Now, a demon ready for war if I ever saw one. Why are you here?”  
“I have to find my angel. Heavens and Hells took it away, and I cannot fathom where.”  
“I could try and see if there is something on my books. And, if all came to worse, I'm positive that Agnes will give you advice. Just to spite me.”  
She turned to the fires and take a pot.  
“I suppose you don't need to eat, but would you join us? In the meantime, I would really like to know better the magic you used. Only on a professional basis, of course.”  
The demon could use a drink or twenty, but he didn't want to miracle anything. He idly chat with the to humans during lunch, answering to Anathema's questions and feeling profound envy for their growing love.

Just before it was time to retire, it was Newton who had an idea.  
“You said demons and angels are working together, so he might be kept on a sort of neutral ground. Neither would want the other to have more power over him.”  
Crowley looked at him pensively.  
“Why not keeping him in Hell?”  
“Because you can easily find your way around there.”  
Anathema entered the discussion.  
“Similarly, he wont be on Heaven. That will be the first place you'll go searching for him. What's left?”  
Only the Universe, thought Crowley.  
“He could be on Earth”, said Newton.  
The phone ringed.  
“Anathema, something is approaching. But you will be safe inside. And I will be there tomorrow morning, could you have some chocolate biscuits ready?”  
Crowley felt sleep overcoming him. That kid was scary. The three retreated for the night.

 

– – – 

 

In the room, Aziraphale was not rolled on a corner. After some more playtime, Hastur had him unchained and thrown against a wall.  
“Get some rest pretty one. It's time to hunt.”  
All of him was hurting. He would have cried, but he couldn't find any more tears. His only hopes were for Crowley to be safe and for the pain to be so much that his body will lose conscience. It almost felt like so.  
Gabriel materialized in front of him.  
“Well, well, well. That won't do. This vessel will need weeks to heal.”  
Aziraphale started to shake from fear.  
“The only good thing I can do for you is healing it, don't you think?”  
The wounds closed, leaving faint scars. But the pain did not go away.  
“See you soon , traitor.”  
He was left alone again, fears multiplied as his hopes were killed one by one.


	6. In the middle of the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all readers, and a hug to all the ones who left kudos and comments. Thank you for reading this and founding it passable.

Lord Hastur sent them on a special secret mission. The three demons were thrilled. This will end well. Or badly. Or whatever was a ending with them rising from the mass of cannon fodder. Just go and discorporate that fallen demon ( what was a fallen demon anyway?), so Hell could put his hands on him. They were hyped. Satan himself would be pleased, and maybe will finally decide to give them proper names.   
Crowley was last seen entering the Tadesfield area. Earth observation didn't work there, but maybe it was some usual malfunction. Once there, they could sense him.  
Covered by the dark, they approached the little cottage and tried to enter, but there was some kind of barrier around the building. It was night, their objective was inside. All they had to do was waiting for him.

Crowley did go to the guest room, but didn't want to sleep. For him, sleep was not a necessity but a pleasure, and he would have no other pleasures than taking Aziraphale back. Nonetheless, the weariness catch up with him and e fell fast asleep.  
And he dreamed.

He dreamed of his angel crying, naked, on a floor.  
He dreamed of reaching out and holding him. The angel lifted his head, then hastily retreated from Crowley's embrace.  
“Crowley...”, he continued sobbing.  
“My angel, please, forgive me.”  
“Forgive me Crowley”  
His heart broke.  
“I forgive you angel. For what I don't know, but I forgive you, if only I could make it better...”  
Even while dreaming, Crowley was puzzled. He then noticed the manacles around Aziraphale's wirsts. Those were a strange element to dream about. He tried again to confort the figur in front of him.  
“Aziraphale, I know this is just a dream, but I promise you. I'm coming for you.”

After Gabriel left him, Aziraphale managed to cry himself to sleep. He never liked the idea of sleeping, but now it seemed that dreams could be the only place where he was safe.  
And so he dreamed, exhausted.

He dreamed about Crowley comforting him, holding him. His heart sank.  
He felt dirty and didn't want to spoil his love. Even in dream, he retreated.  
“Crowley...”  
But his Crowley would never leave him. Will keep comforting him and tell the right words. Dreams are wonderful. He should have dreamt more in the past.  
“...I'm coming for you.”  
Just what he wanted so badly to ear.  
He thrown himself at the demon and wept, hiding his face against his dear Crowley's chest.

Crowley knew what a dream feels like. He spent ages dreaming of Aziraphale. This didn't feel right.  
“My angel.”, said, holding the sobbing figure and caressing his unkept hairs.  
“My sweet Aziraphale, where are you?”  
But the dream ended, leaving him alone in the dark while the sun started to rise.

– – – 

Against the stone wall, Aziraphale was fast asleep, a serene smile on his lips. Hastur was not pleased. On his ear he said  
“Thinking about me pretty one?”.  
The angel woke to his nightmares, his dream forgotten as the spring warmth in the winter nights.


	7. Morning exercise

The morning came for the ones resting in the cottage and for who was waiting outside.  
Crowley stirred, the dream he had still fresh on his mind: something about it pestered him. It just wasn't right, dreaming of Aziraphale like that. He would expect to see him bleeding, judging him, turning him away, but surely not begging for forgiveness.  
He would have to talk to Anathema about it.

When he reached the kitchen, the witch was already expecting him while reading a old looking book.  
“Would you like something to eat before going out to kill? And please, don't run away afterwards: Adam will be there on a hour or such.”,said Anathema pointing to the window, where the firsts fallen leaves spelled “Go get'em, and do not forget”.  
“Forget what?”  
“Who knows, I'm inferring Adam. This whole mess is stressing me. Care for a tea? I would prefer if you clear my garden from those demons first, the neighbours tend to snoop.”  
Crowley peeked out of a free windows, and could see three demons glaring with was, on their opinion, a menacing face. The aura of his weapons flared. Breakfast will have to wait.

The lowly nameless being were ready to jump on the traitor. For a chance to be named, they will do anything, even discorporate the demon who resisted holy water.

Said demon opened the door and leaned against the frame.  
“And you will be? Don't bother to answer to pleasantries. Where is my angel?”  
The last question was a feral growl. Fear started to grow into the wannabe aggressors, but the one for the punishment they would have to face by Lord Harstur's hand was still bigger.  
Leaving his position, Crowley unsheathed Love and Retribution. He could fell the happiness radiating from them, their handles just a pleasant warm on his palms.  
As on a second thought, exiting the barrier he thrown the dagger directly to the chest of the one on his left and took Passion out. Retribution entered the hastily formed vessel without difficulties, black and red lines rapidly expanding from the point of impact. The opponent dissolved without having the time to scream, surprise on his eyes.  
Who screamed were the other two, soon to be one as Love slashed through the nearest.  
The last opponent hadn't had the time to recover from the blurry action and already Passion was pointed at him.  
“Last chance for you. Where is my angel?”  
The lowly being trembled with fear. He managed to strutter a “I don't know what you are talking about” just before the burning blade slashed through his wings.  
“Why are you soiling my view?”  
“I I I had orders to discorporate you.”, cried the figure rolling with pain on the ground. Another cut to the wings.  
“You should speak more and cower less. Who?”  
Crowley didn't really need to ask: Hastur's stink was still on him. For good measure, he pointed Love to his throat.  
“Lord Hastur”  
He took Love closer to the already reddening skin.  
“Who else.”  
Usually demons go around giving orders at least in pairs, so they knew what was going on.  
“Nobody”  
That was strange.  
“Then sand my regards.”  
And, using Passion, he beheaded the vessel.  
Crowley sheathed the swords, then he retrieved Retribution. He stopped to check his palms: not a sign. The blades were happy, but Vengeance was moping unused. The demon took her out.  
“Your time will come”, he whispered, and gazed lightly his palm before sheathing her again. The dagger was now happy as the others.  
“The tea is ready”, called Anathema.  
Without thinking, he re-entered the cottage only to be faced with the girl holding a ladder.  
The horseshoe was dimly lit, and the demons feathers, if he would have manifested them, won't be as black as before.  
“Didn't you call for tea?”  
Anathema pointed to the table.  
“Didn't the horseshoe stop you?”  
And Crowley, with this new mystery, forgot about the dream.

– – – 

Later, Lord Hastur was furious.  
Luckily, he had the perfect outlet for his rage.  
He took her out against Aziraphale's back, flogging him until no more skin was visible between the cuts. Since his toy was by then unable to scream, he used his mouth to alleviate the tension, nice tears making their way along the face.  
“Good work pretty one”, and with that he left again, the angel slowly falling back into unconsciousness, having as only desire to not be healed again to snatch some rest.  
While he passed away, even this small hope was shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates :( And Thank you all for reading, you are giving me the right energy.
> 
> A question for who knows my headcanon:  
> shall I introduce DM!God to this mess or not? I have a couple paragraphs for Her, nothing fixed, but who knows...


	8. Following the lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sorry for the erratic updates. A special thank to all who left kudos, and please comment as much as you like. I feed on comments, and nibble on kudos.

Crowley was restless. He felt he was wasting time, but reality was that he still didn't had a clue.  
He paced through the cottage while Anathema kept reading and the requested chocolate bisquits were baking. Adam will be there shortly.  
The demon was still a little puzzled on why the horseshoe did let him pass, and totally baffled by what little the intruder has said.  
As we recall, demons don't trust each other: for Hastur to send a suicide squad alone was unusual at his best. Did that mean it was only Hastur's plan? Or was a way to distract him?  
He massaged the already healed wound.  
No, it was just his imagination running wild. His brethren did not had so much subtelty.  
Anathema took the biscuits out of the oven and changed book. Something in the back of Crowley's head was screaming to be remembered, but he could not find what it was.

The doorbell ringed.  
It was time to plan.

On his personal office, the archangel Gabriel checked the feed from the room while filing away paperwork. It had been a serious pain hiding the disappearance af the small angel. He knew he was doing the right thing: he was an angel , his will was only the will of God and She didn't stop him.  
He felt frustration building up from the repetitive work. Really he needed to let go. Maybe he will accept Hastur's offer, after all.

In Tadesfield, at the same moment, the most improbable crew was brainstorming: an eleven years old kid, a witch, an accountant and a demon were sitting (or, in the case of Crowley, pacing) around a table with various maps, charts and notes on it, while a dog sat under his master chair.  
“I say that him been on Earth is our best hypothesis”, said Adam.  
“And both will want to keep on eye on him, so not far from their direct influence zones.”, continued Newton.  
Crowley was devastated.  
“It could be everywhere.”   
He was on the verge of a meltdown.  
Anathema stared at the pile of papers.  
“You said there are few entrances to the offices, as you call them. And that usually thay are near to each other. That could be a place where to start.”  
Crowley sprawled on a chair.  
“We just implied he's not on Hell or Heaven. How can this help us? Please, tell me I get to kill them all one by one and then the only other otherworldly presence would be Aziraphale.”  
Anathema put on her glasses.  
“Ley lines.”  
When the others didn't seem to understand, she huffed and took a bunch of charts from the bottom of the pile.  
“Entrances to otherworldly places should alter the ley lines, creating convergences, If he's on Earth, is it possible that the place would be under both parties influences. We could search for alterations on the ley lines.”  
Adam beamed up.  
“Ley lines are great! You can feel the world being alive if you follow them.”  
“First, we must checked if the theory works. Crowley, can you point were the entrances are?”, replied Newton.  
Crowley looked at them, and then at the maps. It wasn't an information to disclose to humans. But Aziraphale needed him, and that was enough motivation for everything.  
He located the various entrances and, sure enough, were all on big convergence points. Anathema was pleased.  
“Now, this is an old map. Adam, it seem like you can sense them. Am I right?”  
Adam nodded excitedly.   
“You will be faster then me. Could you follow them and see if there is some change on their position? This wil help to find some places to start from. “  
The kid stopped to think.  
“Not now. I have to run to dinner, and then keep The Them entertained. Tonight, I could give it a try. I could drop by tomorrow after school to tell you what I found.”  
“Then take the maps and check what you can find.”,said Newton,”Just, please use a pencil or Anathema might kill us both.”  
As Adam and Dog departed, Crowley excused himself to the guest room. He felt frustrated; every moment away from his angel was a moment too much, and now he had to wait a whole day for some kind of answer.  
Dropping on the bed, Crowley felt sadness overcome him.  
“I miss him so much.”  
And sobbing he fell asleep, dreaming of all the time spent with his love since the beginning of time.

 

– – – 

 

Aziraphale, at the same moment, was crying on his by now usual corner. Feeling the cold stones on his back gave him the only comfort he could afford. The angel had lost track of time passing, seconds stretched to became days during Hastur's visits and hours shrinking to blink of eyes when alone. For all he knew, week had passed by and blended on a nebulous sensation of pain, discomfort and loneliness.  
Aziraphale was starting to believe Crowley dead, or that he will be too disgusted by him now to ever take him back.  
Hastur came back earlier than his usual and not alone: Gabriel was at his side this time.  
The Duke of Hell laughed, a sound that the angel had already learn to associate with some new brand of torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are on Tumblr, come to find me and saiy hello! I'm Doublematch even there.


	9. Sharing nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all readers, sorry for the delay. But I had to decide a couple things.

“Hastur was right, this is quite enjoyable and relaxing”  
Those were the thought of Gabriel while he sat on a sofa, Aziraphale's lips stretched around his newly manifested cock. He did some research on pornography to choose the best one, and impilied that the longer and thicker the better.  
Lord Hastur approved his choice, and seeing his toy literally chocking on Gabriel aroused him; he was currently using the ass, just to better enjoy the view.  
“Gabriel, try and push him further down. Trust me, I'm a demon. And you, pretty one, work better or I'll take the flogger again.”  
Terrified, Aziraphale did his best, trying to add suction and movement. When Gabriel's hand fisted into his hairs and pushed down, tears started to fall unprompted.  
A tight feeling started to form on Gabriel's abdomen. He wondered if he should stop, but his vessel just started bucking more into Aziraphale.  
All control lost, the archangel screamed as his first ever orgasm overcame him.  
Aziraphale, even if he didn't need to breathe, spasmed trying to catch air, triggering Hastur to slam ferociously, finding his personal release.  
The angel blacked out again, for the innumerable time.

– – – 

On Her room, God raised Her sight from the manual She was researching. Something was not right at all. She manifested an espresso, and started to frantically dig through Her notes.

– – – 

Crowley was basking in his usual dreams of time spent with his angel. He could spend eternity with his memories, but deep down he knew that he was just waiting for time to pass. Aziraphale needed him.  
While he was relaxing on the after Apoconot routine they fell into, a sobbing catch his attention. The demon turned around abruptly, and the scene around him changed.  
He was again into a stone room, his beloved crying and throwing up. Crowley ran to him, but the angel once again retracted to his touch.  
“Angel, my angel, please”  
The figure lifted his head, and it took a moment to focus on who was standing in front of him.  
“Go away.”, whispered Aziraphale averting his gaze.  
Crowley's world ended. Never his angel sent him away, even in his worst nightmares. Knowing it was useless, he took off his jacket and covered Aziraphale.  
“If it's was you want, my angel, I'll do it. After you are safe.”  
“Don't look at me, dear. I'm hideous.”  
The demon looked at the floor where the content of the angel stomach was still visible. The sobbing resumed while he crouched.  
No.  
That surely cant be.  
Who will do that to an angel?  
“Bastards.” he muttered.  
He reached for his love.  
“I sincerely hope that whatever demon did this to you still know how to pray, because only God”, he barely winched at the word,”can try and stop me. And She will fail too.”  
Aziraphale continued crying, but didn't scuttle away from his touch.  
“Crowley, please be safe. I'm unworthy, please be safe, That was no demon, dear. God left me, you will leave me, but all I can ask for is for you to be well.”  
“Nonsense. I cannot be well without you. I love you, Aziraphale, and I will love you until the end of time and beyond. Please, look at me.”  
When the angel managed to comply, he almost wish he didn't: his sapphire eyes, usually sparkling with joy and love, were hollow.  
“Do you see it now. I'm unworthy.”  
“No, never. Please, angel, can I hold you?”  
“You don't want to.”  
Aziraphale's eyes drifted away.  
“That's not a no, angel.”, said Crowley cradling his love body into his arms.  
“I'll find you.”  
He could feel someone daring to wake him. Just one more minute.  
“God, it's been a long time. But somebody better pray this is just a dream and not what's happening. And I pray to You, if this is real, to kill them painfully. Please, hear me.”

– – – 

God paled finding the notes. Her turn was far away still, but this was just too much. She heard Crowley's prayer and started to cry, tears falling on the fallen archangel sheet and cancelling some of the notes on it.  
Well, repairing the damage was not an action.  
She took a quill, dipped it on Her tears, and started to write.  
He was already going down that path anyway.

– – – 

Aziraphale continued his sleep, heart warmed by the dream. He felt safe for the first time since the bookshop. That fanasy had been wonderful, even if Crowley praying was a bit too much a stretch of imagination.  
But for now, all he could feel was the warmth of Crowley's jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, leve a comment to tell me whatever you like or hate of my work.


	10. Changing Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final is brewing.

Crowley woke up hissing at Anathema. To her credit, she didn't as much as flinch.  
“They willssssh payssshhh.”  
Newton, who was at the door, almost fainted.  
“Adam is here.”  
“Nonsense, he will be here tomorrow.”  
“Crowley, tomorrow is today.”

He did it again. With his imagination, he got lost fantasizing of Aziraphale. Last time, he slept away a century. No more naps, he decided. His angel needed him. His angel who was crying.  
“Do not forget”, had written Agnes.  
It was not about Adam.  
“Crowley, are you listening?”  
“We need to talk. You and me. No Adam”  
“I'll just go downstairs with Adam and get the tea started.”, said Newton.

“I'll dreamed Aziraphale.”  
Anathema stared down on him, arms crossed.  
“I'm willing to bet it's not an uncommon occurrence.”  
“I didn't dream of Aziraphale. I believe I dreamed him.”  
Crowley started pacing, hands shaking.  
“I know how to dream feel like. I've done it for a long time. I'm asking your opinion, witch. Is it possible?”  
When she didn't respond immediately, the demon turned to face her and removed his glasses.  
“I need to know. Is it possible that what I saw was true?”  
“I've read of sharing dream, but I cant say for sure.”  
She remembered the first time she saw them, after the bike incident. How she could feel their auras interweaving without even try to see them. How the essences searched one for the other.  
“If it's possible at all, I would not be surprised you two can.”

Crowley dropped to the ground.  
“I'm sorry, angel, so sorry.”  
Anathema shuffled back.  
“I'm going to check the map.”  
The demon put back on his glasses and raised.  
“I'm coming with you.”

The tea was almost ready, the chart waiting for them.  
“I couldn't check all, but around London the maps are really wrong.”  
Just looking at the annotations from Adam amplified Crowley's sorrow.  
St. James Park. The bandstand. His flat. The bookshop. The Ritz. Their favourite café. All of that speaks of his angel and him.  
“Most of them are from me and Aziraphale.”  
The tower of London. The London Eye.  
“Those two are not mine.”  
“It's a start. I'll check the rest of the maps. It's being fun. Gotta run, or there will be trouble.”, said Adam running away to play with Dog.  
“I can take you to London, if you like.”, proposed Newton.  
Anathema nodded approvingly.  
“So, what do you recall of that dream of yours?”  
“Big room, no windows, all stone.”  
No need to tell more.  
“Stone. Not cement?”  
The image of his angel throwing up on the floor flashed to him unprompted. The floor. He could see the joints.  
“Stone.”  
“Then, I'll check the tower first, if I were you.”  
Finally, he had a purpose for his actions.  
Something inside him started screaming for the blood of his angel torturers, a primal rage he almost associated with divine fury.  
Anathema catches a breath: Crowley's aura is changing. Not on the way usually auras did; it was like he was becoming something different, something dangerous, and the energy of this mutation was making her dizzy.  
Not soon enough, Crowley and Newton left for London at Dick Turpin's faster speed, which meant painfully slow for the anxious velocity addicted fallen archangel.

– – – 

Under the tower of London, Aziraphale was fast asleep. At least for a while, he would be left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit with the auras is inspired by [this beautiful drawing](https://quadlinda.tumblr.com/post/185779370688/although-i-understood-anathema-doesnt-see-auras) by one of my favorite tumbler artist, [quadlinda](https://quadlinda.tumblr.com/).  
> Check her out!   
> And let me know what you think of my work, i need all of you <3


	11. Asura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I found a victim to help me. Thanks Ashenaiulyk, you are the best.  
> We are almost done, so get ready for the last killing spree

God, on Her room, had finished repairing the damage; the words written with Her tears settled on the page, changing the very essence of Crowley. It was a project She never fully develop, sure that it will never be necessary. She checked the turns again, Her action was a long way still: She had Her hands tied, nonetheless wanted to help the angel more. But maybe, just maybe, in the base manual, She could find some forgotten loophole. Just in case.  
Still trembling with rage, She reached for the big dusty tome at the bottom of the pile and started to check.

– – – 

Aziraphale's rest didn't last: Gabriel, once tasted some corporal pleasure, wanted more. And Hastur was way too willing to help investigate.

– – – 

The blue robin left Crowley in front of the Tower of London, and make way back to the cottage.  
Crowley could clearly feel fresh otherworldly power emanating from the building.  
How he could feel that just slipped from his mind.  
The weapons sang with anticipation, the cold of their steel passing even through the dresses.  
Who cares about giving away my position. Let them know, and let them fear.  
He used a miracle to be unnoticed by humans around, and let the lingering trace he could feel guide him.

A shiver ran through the spine of Gabriel while he was flogging Aziraphale, the same feeling Hastur perceived from the sofa. A sparkle lit on the angels' eyes. He would know that sensation everywhere. His dear was near. The little hope became immediately despair: a Duke of Hell and an Archangel wielded a lot of destructive power.  
“Please, go away”, was all he could think.

Crowley followed easily the track to the basement. A long corridor who terminated with a sturdy door, guarded with barriers from Heaven and Hell.  
Who in Her name do they think they are, barring him from what was rightfully his?  
Love and Passion tore the barriers, both light and cold on his hands. Just a trivial miracle to open the door and see.  
Aziraphale.  
Chained to the roof, bleeding.  
Hastur with his silly fire and Gabriel with a flaming sword.  
“Free him and I'll kill you quickly,'' he growled.  
As he entered the room, Gabriel miracled him in shackles covered with holy symbols and chained him. Crowley managed to not drop his swords.  
“Looks like you wont kill anyone, snake.”, said Gabriel examining the weapons from the distance.  
“Nice toys. How can you be so clever to do that and yet so stupid to cross me it's a mystery.”  
Hastur laughed and forced Aziraphale's face up.  
“Now, pretty one. How would you like to see us play with your friend?”  
The angel cried and pleaded.  
“Please, I'll do anything. Let him go.”  
That was the last straw.  
Effortlessly, Crowley freed himself , manifested his wings and launched on Hastur.  
How did he dare to spoil Aziraphale's skin with his touch?  
Focused on his prey, he didn't noticed Gabriel miracling Retribution on his hands.  
The end for Hastur was fast but not completely painless. Using Passion, Crowley cut off his left arm and, while he was screaming in shock, beheaded him using Love.  
“Thank you dear”, he whispered to the blade while sheathing and reaching for Vengeance.  
He was struck on the back.  
Gabriel had thrown Retribution against him. Surprised, he dropped the sword he was still holding.  
Crowley knew he should feel unbearable pain from the wound, but it was not so. While the archangel was gloating, he took out the dagger and miracled closed the cut. No pain. Only rage.  
Without a second thought, he threw Vengeance directly to the centre of power of Gabriel's vessel, who was engulfed in hellfire.  
It was too fast for his liking, but he didn't had time to enjoy a slow kill, since the holiness from Retribution's wound could manifest anytime. He needed to save Aziraphale.  
He easily freed his trembling angel and miracled away the signs of recent tortures.  
“It's over, Aziraphale. They cant hurt you anymore. Sorry angel, I've failed you.”, said, sitting on the ground, cradling his lover near.  
“Crowley...”  
“I'm here, I'm sorry that I can't say forever. I've been careless...”  
“Crowley your wings...”  
He lifted his gaze to the still manifested wings, who were cocooning them.  
They weren't black.  
Nor white.  
They were of an impossible grey.  
He reached for Retribution and realized, finally, that the handle was cold, even if holy symbols still were dancing on the blade. It's not possible. He cut himself. No pain.  
Aziraphale was still mesmerized by the soft grey wings, and Crowley looked up.  
“Do you hear me? It's not possible. You said no to this long before there were demons around. And than, with us lot, who needed an assassin angel?”  
The asura started to cry.  
“Thank you.”  
He hold Aziraphale nearer.  
“Let's go home.”  
As soon as he understood the words, the angel found himself on his bookshop, hold in Crowely's arms.  
“What happened?”  
Crowley carded gently through his hair, and he had to fight to not flee.  
“She listened to me.”, he responded still crying  
“Once before the time, the Almighty entertain the idea of an assassin angel, to take her displeasure to other ethereal beings. She decided against it, because he would be too powerful. Even during the Rebellion, and after the Fall, She didn't change Her mind. But now, She listened to me, and lent me that forbidden power, to stand against Heavens and Hells. For you.”  
Not once, referring to God, Crowley winced.

In her room, God had found the perfect loophole. She wasn't bound to send only memos. She will deliver Her opinion personally.

The destruction of Gabriel reverberated through Heaven. Michael was already calling the celestial armies to avenge him.  
Then, the Almighty stood in front of Her remaining archangels, foot tapping with impatience.  
“Now you stop this nonsense. Gabriel was the one to choose his demise.”  
They reluctantly bowed their heads.  
“And please inform the opposition that I will personally stop whomever will take actions to avenge Hastur. I know you have ways to do it.”

The bell of the shop ringed, and a young woman entered. The light seemed to bend around and at the same time emanate from Her, playing on Her silver jacket.  
“Sorry, the shop is closed”, yelled Crowley while trying to miracle Her away.  
Huffing, She joined them. Vengeance stopped just short of hitting Her, and She retrieved it and took it to a frozen Crowley.  
“Let me see him”  
The asura parted his wings, revealing a still terrified Aziraphale.  
“Aziraphale, guardian of the East gate. I'm sorry, Aziraphale. Now get some sleep.”  
She kissed the angel forehead, and he was dressed and fast asleep.  
“We have a lot to talk about, you and me.”  
And so they did, God and Her lost archangel, almost until sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to all who read and don't want to kill me for my errors. 
> 
> I hate to not close narrative cycles, so the next chapter will be the last. Now, I ask you: this story can give more? A series? A sequel? Delete the work and burn my pen?


	12. A new first day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends...

When morning came, Aziraphale was awoken by the ringing of the shop's phone. He was dressed, laying on his sofa and he could smell cocoa.  
What a neat dream, he pondered. He could even hear Crowley's voice answering the call.  
“It is done. If you want, we could come over this Saturday. Yes, tell Adam. And the Them, of course. Oh, and have cocoa. Lots of it. Maybe some strawberry tea? Yes. Ciao.”  
The angel didn't want to move, certain that this illusion wont last. He closed his eyes again.  
Steps came to a stop near him.  
“If I'll open my eyes now”, he thinks,”I know I'll see Hastur.”  
“Angel, I know you're awake. Please, would you drink something?”  
Crowley's voice made him look: kneeling near him was his dear, holding his favourite cup. Hastur had found a way to trick him so well.  
“Nice illusion”, said Aziraphale sitting.  
“Angel, my angel, this is real. Remember?”, said Crowley offering the cup.  
It all came to him: Hastur screaming, Gabriel in flames, Crowley's wind grey and a nice and warm feeling as he fell asleep.  
He know Crowley should run, away where Heaven and Hells cant find him. But he seems so calm, as if nothing could hurt him. Something else. There was something else. The wings.  
“Can you show me your wings?”  
Crowley did comply to this simple request. His wings were majestic as ever, but now were indeed grey as clouds before a storm. Not a demon, not an angel.  
Aziraphale sipped his cocoa.  
“Is it true? All of it?”  
“I'm sorry to say it is.”  
Crowley removed his glasses and started fidgeting with his hands.  
“Aziraphale, please, can you forgive me? And can I hold you?”  
“My dear, what have you to be forgiven for? And...”  
The angel tensed. He felt dirty and useless and unworthy to be held, but Crowley was looking at him with all the love in the Universe in his eyes. Pleading.  
“Yes, you can.”  
With the utmost care, the asura put his arms around the angel and hold him lightly.  
“I'll wait for you 6000 more years. Just, let me be with you.”, whispered Crowley.  
Aziraphale was still scared, but the purity of that sentiment started to ease his fears.  
Crying, he responded.  
“My dear, I would never want you to be away from me.”  
And so, the slow recovery of Aziraphale began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all readers for your support. Feel free to comment and/or message/ask me on Tumblr, as doublematch.  
> I'm thinking about making a series, I'm just waiting for the right inspiration. Tell me your ideas, maybe something can grow out of it!


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